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Gan was not surprised when he felt the presence of The Eater of Worlds pass away. That creature has been feasting on that meek, little planet for too long—preying on a race much weaker than IT like the frightened beast it was.

It’s been roughly fifteen billion years ago since Gan last saw IT and he knew that one day, the Eater would find ITS match—ITS mortal enemy that Gan easily guessed the shapeshifter had patronized and mocked.

Gan could laugh because the starved entity was slaughtered by seven humans. Not an army with the strongest weapons the planet could produce, but seven average shining humans who had a close bond with each other.

Two of them were almost killed by the Eater, one almost let fear end his life and the other during battle—but in the end, those humans realized ITS weakness and were victorious. Because the Eater had been sloppy, ITS arrogance had been ITS doom.

Good riddance, Gan smiled, he never liked that pest.

Maturin however, was a great loss. His old, kind turtle friend was missed every second within the Macroverse. Every guardian missed Maturin and his wise personality—Gan has never felt so alone in his fifty billion years of life.

He was getting old too, but he was God. The creative overforce in the cosmology of many universes. He was immortal, and if he ever perished, his and Maturin’s universes would cease to exist until a new entity replaced his existence to begin life again.

Gan perished those thoughts, he could never imagine losing all of them.

Especially Maturin’s vomited universe—the one that held those seven humans that killed the Eater of the Worlds. Before perishing by chocking on two universes, Maturin had always expressed how much he cared for a few humans in that small planet—he had blessed them with a gift that he named ‘the shining’, and even though Gan thought it was a waste of time for his friend to care—he understood now.

Seven humans killed a creature much, much stronger than them.

And Gan respected that. He only wished he could tell Maturin how right he was about his humans, or at least about these seven.

Gan watched them all move on.

Fall in love.

Conceive.

Gan was used to seeing this circle of life between humans. And many other species were the same. Gan thought that maybe, he had loved Maturin as well.

Maturin had loved humans. Even in death, he was peaceful, because he knew Gan would take care of his accidental universe.

Gan made a decision.

Honoring his friend, he was going to help the version of Maturin’s creations that still had a lot to mature. He traveled when they were neither children or adults, about to meet the Eater for the first time.

His plan was simple: he no longer wanted IT to make them suffer more than they already did, so, decisively, he used his godly powers to drastically change the Eater’s game. And even though ITS presence was worthless in the past, Gan could feel ITS fury while IT slumbered. Gan did not fear something that was already dead—and much, much weaker than him.

Time and space had already been tampered with, Gan could stop it if he wished so, but he would not.

For Maturin.

For the sake of those seven children.

And for his own amusement.


A lot happened for the past three years.

In two-thousand-sixteen, the Losers Club successfully finished a battle they began twenty-seven years ago. They also became more confident people who realized the lives they had needed a change.

It all started with Stan Uris.

Stan was always the most conscientious of the Losers. He was always the most straight-laced, the most grown-up. He always dressed well, he spoke far less and was always the one to point out how impossible Pennywise was. His main hobby was bird watching. Spotting birds, recording the sighting, confirming the type. As an adult, he became an accountant. A profession that relies on rules, precision, and details. As an adult, most people lose the pliability of childhood. The suspension of disbelief becomes harder to manage. In Stan’s case, this proved almost fatal. He never recovered from the PTSD stemming from almost having his face bitten off by Pennywise.

Mike’s phone call lifted the protective amnesia that the Losers had been living with since childhood and Stan’s ordered world came undone. He simply did not want to face as an adult what he could only barely face as a child.

But then, Richie called the Uris residence just when Stan was about to take a bath.

All it took was for him to hear his forgotten best friend’s voice and seeing Patty Uris’—his loving wife—concerned expression as she watched him talk over the phone with Richie.

Stan, decisively, went to Derry.

Bill Denbrough became a novelist with an affinity for horror novels, but his five books received mixed reviews because of the endings. Unknown to the man, he had detailed his characters after his childhood friends. He also moves to England and married an actress named Audra Phillips, who’s described as looking similar to Beverly Marsh. When Mike called him, they were both in Los Angeles because of a movie that was being made out of his most popular book—he was struggling back then. Both with a stubborn director that wanted a new (better) ending and with a rocky relationship with his wife.

Defeating a clown made Bill realize how much he loved Audra, and even though he kissed Beverly the two attended marriage counseling and his wife forgave him because she too loved her clumsy husband.

Beverly traveled the world as a fashion designer. Unfortunately, she ended up trapped in a relationship that exhibited controlling and abusive behavior that reminded her of Alvin Marsh.

When Mike called, it was like he gave her the keys to her cell that ultimately set her free.

She gained back the same strength she had as a thirteen-year-old and fought her way out of her prison and abusive marriage. And even though Tom, her now ex-husband, made the divorce complicated and petty as he could—she was free, in the arms of a man that genuinely loved her.

Ben, now an architect, focused on his health after leaving Derry as an overweight kid and became a model for a few years before becoming one of the most successful architects in the world.

He never forgot Beverly, even when his memories forced him to. Beverly was always in his heart, her sweet words from his year book’s page were kept inside his wallet for twenty-seven years.

And just two weeks after starting a new life with her, when she proposed, they got married three months later on a small ceremony that only the Losers and Kay McCall (Beverly’s closest friend from Chicago) attended.

Richie, a stand-up comedian with numerous distinct characters, had led a really depressing and facade life until Mike called. It was darkly funny how a person could repress his own sexuality for almost thirty years.

But as soon as he walked into that Chinese restaurant and sat down at the table with his childhood friends—Richie knew damn well that just by looking and hearing Eddie Kaspbrak he was still in love with him. That short, hypochondriac bastard still managed to give him butterflies after all these years, and Richie loved him, so much.

That’s why when he was caught in the deadlights and saw his Eddie being stabbed in the chest by Pennywise’s spider claw, he instantly took action as soon as he woke up to see Eddie cheering on top of him, having saved him from those lights and thinking he had killed IT—he rolled them both to the side and changed the future when that claw didn’t even land a scratch on Eddie.

After they practically bullied the clown until IT was weakened enough to rip ITS heart out, Eddie kissed him after both jumped off a stupidly dangerous cliff into the quarry, at the same time.

And just a week after returning to L.A with a new life—Richie came out on Twitter and the internet went crazy. He lost some fans but gained even more. Even celebrities with far more clout than him had been supportive, and coming out helped Richie boost his career with even more interviews, no more heteronormative jokes and collabs with comedians like John Mulaney and Kevin Hart.

But what his fanbase liked the most was that he finally started writing his own material, instead of letting someone else do that for him.

Eddie was the only other one who got into a business that didn’t rely on some form of creativity. He was a risk analyst, and he got himself married to Myra, a woman that could only be described as a blonde version of his deceased mother.

When Mike called him, both his car and reality crashed as Eddie realized that the life he led was placebo. It was all bullshit.

As soon as he saw Richie Tozier, he knew that his loveless marriage was over.

And even though it took him longer than Richie to figure out his suppressed sexuality, Eddie Kaspbrak made a decision on his own for the first time and kissed that trash mouth after being pumped with adrenaline from killing IT.

He didn’t even fucking care about both of them being covered with dirty water.  

The divorce was messy, a needy and manipulative Myra had been expected and Eddie was as nice as possible because he felt slightly guilty about it. But in the end, he left New York City and moved in with Richie in Beverly Hills while working from home.

Mike, unlike the others, didn’t leave Derry.

This allowed him to maintain all memories of Pennywise and the summer of nineteen-eighty-nine. He became a historian and librarian, studying in preparation for Pennywise’s ultimate return. This included saving clippings and images relating to either Derry’s mysterious history of Pennywise.

When he called back the Losers and told them he knew how to defeat IT, he didn’t share with them the Native people's outcome, as he feared their knowing would lead them to not believe and the Ritual to not work completely for them either.

In the end, it didn’t work anyways.

But then, it did.

Each Loser had to face their worst fears, but they were able to come back together in ITS lair to face their literal demon once and for all.

Mike no longer had to lie and live with fear.

Ben wasn’t going to die alone.

Beverly was free.

Richie accepted his sexuality and regained genuine happiness.

Eddie released himself from a dead-end life and fell in love again.

Bill realized that Georgie’s death wasn’t his fault. And moved on from his childhood crush.

And Stan wasn’t weak, and he loved being alive, his friends, and his wife very much.

This all happened in a year—they could never forget it. And they wouldn’t.

In two-thousand-seventeen, Richie proposed to Eddie.

They married in March, away from the public world and the media with only close friends and family witnessing it. They were now Richie and Eddie Tozier-Kaspbrak.

Beverly had been five months pregnant when she attended the wedding, and then in July, Lydia E. Hanscom-Marsh was born. She had Beverly’s red hair and Ben’s once chubbiness. He was anxious about seeing his daughter end up overweight because of his genetics, but Beverly knew it was too early to even discuss it.

Stan and Patty were also blessed that year when they finally conceived the child that they always wanted—a baby girl that they named Aviva Andrea Uris, born in August. With Stan’s dark, curly hair and Patty’s hazel eyes, she was the perfect combination of her parents.

Stan attended therapy after defeating IT, and he was getting better.

As a father, he was caring and a tad protective over his daughter—Patty knew that sometimes when she saw her husband leave the bed during the night, when Aviva wasn’t even crying, to find him standing next to her crib, watching her sleep, it was a concerning thing for him to do. And Stan knew this as well, but he couldn’t help it. Aviva meant the world to him, but at least he knew that his paranoia had to be discussed with his therapist.

So Stan was getting better, he was. Everyone was patient with him.

Two baby girls were welcomed to the world by their extended family. And no harm would come upon them.

When Bill’s movie of the new novel he began writing after Derry was released in November, the Losers got to meet the child actors that counterpart themselves and enjoyed an actual good horror movie of a group of kids beating the shit out of a monster that terrorized a small town.

Bill obviously projected his life onto his new novel—so maybe that could be the reason the ending ended up being praised this time.

Even the internet created memes about it.

They all spent the holidays together at Richie and Eddie’s, with a fusion of Christmas and Hannukah that ended up going well for both parties.

In two-thousand-eighteen, Audra and Bill announced to his friends and family first and then the public world that they were three months pregnant.

With twins, nonetheless. And they decided to keep their genders as a secret—making everyone restless with anticipation and curiosity.

Summer came and went—Lydia and Aviva turned one-year-old.

George and Phoebe Denbrough were born in October, near Halloween. Bill couldn't stop gushing about his daughter and son. Naming his boy, that was six minutes older after his late brother had been something that even Audra wanted. 

Eddie finally convinced Richie to move to a more secluded house near the ocean. It was a beach architecture with a more modern lifestyle in the heart of Venice on Sunset Avenue. It had grand open spaces, stunning wood-clad volume ceilings that Eddie awed at, a spacious cook’s kitchen with modern appliances, an island with seating, and a separate pantry.

They also wanted a house where their friends could stay over during parties or reunions.

On the first floor, there was a guest suite with a separate entrance. On the second floor, two more bedroom suites and an exquisite master retreat that belonged to Richie and Eddie— including a spa-like bath, private balcony, and a large closet.

But the third floor was the level that exceeded all expectations. With a roof-top viewing deck, a built-in BBQ, amazing views, ocean breezes, and breathtaking sunsets that settled perfectly in the background as the honorary family would dine together during the warm, summer nights.

Richie was also about security. Besides the attached two-car garage they also had a fenced, gated, hedged, private yard. It was on the West of Lincoln and close to Rose Ave, Abbott Kinney, the famous boardwalk and the beach.

This house was definitely a wow factor for anyone.

Richie liked pampering his husband (even though he couldn’t say it to Eddie without receiving a gremlin-like glare) so he didn’t mind having a big house that didn’t exactly fit his previous lifestyle—if Eddie was happy so was him.

And as the months passed, the comedian began liking having the ocean as his neighbor. Eddie would go out at dawn almost every day for a jog on the boardwalk and when he’d return, Richie would make breakfast and always compliment Eddie’s choice of short-shorts that complimented his legs.

It was now two-thousand-nineteen, and Richie was preparing along with his husband to receive their friends on the annual Losers Club Summer Meeting they began hosting a year ago. And it was going to be even better this year with a larger house — he couldn’t wait to welcome everyone under his ceiling for a month.

Eddie was more anxious about baby-proofing the house since Lydia and Aviva—now almost two years old—and the twins (now nine months old) were coming to stay as well. Aviva and Lydia walked and knew what to not touch because her parents taught them--but the twins just recently took their first steps and they liked exploring, so Eddie was rightfully anxious about having four toddlers running around his massive house. 

They’d celebrate Lydia’s birthday here, and Richie reminded himself to ask Ben and Bev if Lydia liked clowns for her party.

Then he instantly regretted even thinking about the inside joke when he imagined Pennywise giving Lydia a balloon.


July 2nd, 2019

7:22 PM

Richie, with his undying need to affectionately annoy his husband whenever he felt their house was too quiet, was speechless.

The same Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier, who was known to blabber and comment on everything, usually with a quip, and that said jokes for a living. The same forty-three-year-old man who always felt like a teenager in love for the first time whenever Eddie kissed his neck, or nibbled his ear, or even when his husband just generally glanced his way.

He was a very easy man to please. And only a magic word could shut his trash mouth right away.

But as he left his fantastic bathroom after taking a relaxing bath in his spa-like tub, he suddenly felt a tug inside his guts as his blurry sight caught a short figure from the corner of his eyes. Richie calmly reached for his glasses by the short dresser and froze when a familiar face came into his view after putting them on—a kid who definitely didn’t belong here.

Not here, as in this house.

Here, as in this fucking year.

Thirteen-year-old Eddie Kaspbrak was staring at him fearfully, but he was as still as a statue—probably scared to even move.

Mini-Eddie had blinked and then found himself inside an unfamiliar, expensive-looking bedroom, but he wasn’t nervous about that, no, it was because as a kid, when he saw a middle-aged man, standing in front of him with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his naive mind went straight to the gutter.

The two stared at each other.

And he was speechless no more.

Richie screamed, high-pitch and all, running back to the bathroom and closing it behind him loudly. He was panicking, freaking out—and he didn’t care if he kept on screaming as if that clown was chasing after him again, in its stupid spider form and all. He thought this shit was over! What the fuck! Is this a trick? Is that fucking clown alive?! But it hasn’t been twenty-seven years!! How did IT escape Derry? We killed that fucker!!

“Rich?!!”

That was Eddie’s voice—his Eddie. And it sounded like he was running to inspect what happened.

No bueno.

“Richie?!”

That was Eddie’s voice—kid Eddie. And it sounded like he was just as shocked and disoriented as Richie was. He almost felt bad for him.

“Eds! Wait, there’s—” Richie tried to warn his husband, but when he heard the door of their suite open he cringed at the inevitable meeting.

“What the f—Who the hel—OH MY GOD!! RICHIE!” Eddie was confused as to why a kid was standing in front of his bed, but when he looked at his widened, scared, brown eyes—Eddie found himself recognizing them, his voice elevated into shrieking.

And quickly, Richie opened the bathroom’s door again, looking between his Eddie and mini-Eddie as he walked up to stand next to the one that had a wedding band on his finger, “You see him too, right?” the comedian hissed, not joking at all.

“Of course I fucking see him! He’s me!” Eddie whispered harshly, keeping his panicked eyes on his younger self as if he was scared it would jump on them if he averted them.

Thirteen-year-old Eddie, whose knees were shaking at this point, started backing away and used the long curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him to hide his body, “W-Who are you? Did you drugged and kidnapped me?” his voice was trembling, his head was the only part visible poking out behind the curtain at this point. It was clear that he was terrified.

They all were. This wasn’t normal.

“Ed—I mean, kid, listen, do you have any idea who we are?” Richie attempted to keep a calm voice, but all he wanted right now was to grab an object and chuck it at that kid to see if he was real.

“Of course I fucking don’t, old man!! Are you deaf? I just asked who you guys were!”

Richie winced, because yeah—mini-Eddie did ask. Maybe shock was the one throwing out stupid questions.

“Look, we don’t know how you got here but you have to calm down, Eddie, we’re not going to hurt you,” it sure freaked Eddie the fuck out to comfort his younger self, but if they were going to get any answers they all needed to chill for a second and get their heads straight.

Mini-Eddie glared at him, “How do you know my name? Huh?”

Eddie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in a frustrated manner, “Listen. Eddie, I know this is… complicated and hard to believe but I’m you. And this naked idiot—Richie, why are you naked?” Eddie’s eyes widened comically at the sight of his husband's half-naked display.

“Uh? O-Oh, I just got out of a bath.”

“GO GET DRESSED FOR FUCK’S SAKE!! THIS IS WHY HE’S PROBABLY FREAKING OUT!” Eddie yelled at him with aggravation.

“OH?? REALLY?? SO IT’S NOT ABOUT HIM SUDDENLY BLIPPING OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE INTO THE FUTURE?!!” Richie yelled back, voice full of sarcasm as he stomped loudly towards the bed where his pajama set Beverly had gifted him last Christmas was sitting, he picked them up and stomped towards the bathroom now, avoiding looking at mini-Eddie, “OH GEEZ! MY BAD! I’M SUCH A FUCKING MORON!!” with one last childish jab, he slammed the door behind his back after entering the bathroom, feeling instantly embarrassed that the first thing mini-Eddie witnessed from the future was a classic Reddie (that’s what Ben called the couple) argument.

After catching his breath and distract himself by drying his body and getting dressed, Richie was now relieved to not be out there anymore. He didn’t want to deal with this shit—and he was patting himself in the back from not even feeling a drop of bile coming up from his stomach. Throwing up would be something that Richie used to do whenever he got too shocked or anxious—but that stayed in his life before killing that clown. And it was staying there.

So, he didn’t know how to act as soon as he left the bathroom. He could only hope Eddie was doing a good job calming down his younger self.

Or God help them both, mini-Eddie was not to be fucked with if he thought he was in danger. Richie still remembers the war screech he gave Pennywise after the fucker threw up on him when they first fought IT.

Outside, Eddie took a tentative step towards the younger one, raising his arms in a non-provocative manner and managing to hold a calm expression even after witnessing his husband behaving like a child, “Eddie, listen to me. I can prove to you that I’m you, from the future. Ask me anything, something that none of the Losers know.”

Mini-Eddie perked up at that, “W-Wait… how do you know about them?”

“It’s like I said, I’m you. I know about Bill, Ben, Bev, Stan, Mike, and Richie. I know about the clown—Pennywise,” that clown might be dead but Eddie’s mouth still soured just by mentioning IT.

Mini-Eddie’s mouth formed a small circle as his eyes widened, “H-Holy fuck… no way. Okay, I’ll play! Who was my first kiss?”

Eddie almost laughed at that, of course, he’d start with a tricky question, “First, tell me the date it was before you showed up here.”

He was wearing those infamous red-shorts that Richie never shut up about, but he’d use those shorts almost every day during that summer—they had been his favorite, after all.

His younger self nodded, finding that fair, “It was the fourth of July of ninety-eighty-nine,” he promptly clued.

“Oh…” Eddie smiled sadly as the memories started flooding his mind, “Then you still haven’t kissed anyone,” and now Eddie knew more about his mysterious appearance, “And you were with them at the Neibolt Street House, weren’t you?” he glanced at kid’s arm—it was not broken.

“I… fell. That leper he pushed me into that hole but…” mini-Eddie’s expression showed was of one that was about to panic, “This is a trick, isn’t it? Get away from me! Where’s Richie and Bill?! RICHIE!! BILL!!” he screamed, as if the corridor of that abandoned out was right outside the white-wooden door, “HELP ME!”

“Eddie! Please calm down!” the middle-aged man begged as a headache began forming.

Richie suddenly burst out of the bathroom, thankfully fully dressed, starling both Eddies, and he looked around frantically, “What’s the problem? I heard you scream my name!”

Eddie wanted to choke him, “It wasn’t me, asshole, it was him! You don’t recognize the difference between a kid’s voice with an adult’s?!”

Richie pursed his lips, and then gave him a sheepish look, “Well I…” he found the bravery to look at mini-Eddie, and then sighed, “Hearing one Eddie call for my help is enough to make me panic—sorry.”

Eddie’s hard eyes softened, and he was about to reach for his husband’s face when he remembered who else was in the room.

An Eddie Kaspbrak that still had no fucking clue he was gay and in love with Richie Tozier.

“Shit—we’ll talk later,” Eddie whispered gently at the other before turning towards mini-Eddie again, “Listen. We need to find out how you got here so we can think in a way to send you back. I know you don’t want to believe in us but—”

“Is that really you, Richie?”

Eddie made a face at the rudeness of being interrupted by himself—but at the same time he couldn’t be that surprised, he used to be a little shit and he was proud of that.

Richie, however, fought the urge to go grab mini-Eddie and hug him tightly when he heard that timid, hesitant voice address him.

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me,” the comedian confirmed evenly. And Eddie rolled his eyes at his husband's attempt to sound mature.

Mini-Eddie frowned, looking up at him, “Oh, yeah? Let me ask you something, old man, how’s my mom?”

Richie shrugged, grinning casually as he took the bait, “I don’t know, she might be tired from fucking all night with me.”

Eddie cringed because his mother was dead—but Richie needed to make a point.

“Beep—”

“—beep, Richie? Yeah, I know. Sorry, not sorry, it’s not my fault your mom likes big dick.”

Mini-Eddie was no longer hiding behind the curtains, but stalking towards Richie like a predator, “SHUT THE FUCK UP!! MY MOMMY DOESN—oh.”

Richie snorted at mini-Eddie’s brutal realization.

“As you can see, mini-me, Richie hasn’t changed at all,” Eddie commented dryly, almost sure that his younger self now believed them, “And honestly, do you think Pennywise could be patient enough to make all of this shit?”

Mini-Eddie’s hands began shaking as he covered his mouth to look around, “Oh—Oh f-fuck! Fucking fuck shit dick!! I wanna go home!! What year is this?!”

Richie dropped his amused smile into a concerned one, “Hey buddy? Breathe with me, okay?” he wasn’t inexperienced when it came to panic attacks. Besides him having them, he had to watch over Eddie during the first nights together. Nightmares would be the main reason to provoke them, and Richie lost countless of sleep because of his anxiety that his happy ending was just a lucid dream and that he was still stuck in the deadlights—his friends and his love all dead.

But it’s been three years, and he was fine. Everything was fine.

Except for this anomaly standing in front of him, shaking as the warm, Californian weather didn’t affect him. Oh shit, has Eddie even been to California as a kid before?

“I c-can’t breathe,” Mini-Eddie whined, covering his face now, “I can’t breathe—I need my inhaler!” he gasped, reaching for his red fanny pack.

Oh shit, that thing. Richie was shocked when he saw Eddie quickly reach for his mini-self, his hands stopping the thirteen-year-old from unzipping his fanny pack as he gave the kid a serious look.

“No, you don’t. Listen to me, they’re all placebo, Eddie. It’s all bullshit!”

Now it was Richie’s turn to be a reasonable adult, unfortunately, “Eds! What the fuck are you doing?! You told me you only found out about that before,” he glanced at a confused, but teary-eyed mini-Eddie, “…ya know, that fight.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m trying to help him—”

“Don’t you remember ‘Back to the Future’? What if giving mini-you some ‘advice’” he air quoted that word just to annoy his husband, “Changes our future completely once he returns to the eighties?”

Eddie squinted his eyes at the man he said ‘I do’ to, “Rich. Are you suggesting that a movie represents this situation? Because if you are, then you’re out of your mind,” he wanted to say ‘I’ll divorce you’ but he managed to catch his words before barfing them in front of a frightened kid that came from a town were the word ‘faggot’ was casually thrown around and you’d be dead meat if they even suspected that you liked the same gender as yours.

“But what if it’s true, though?!”

“That’s s-stupid,” mini-Eddie commented, and he sounded both amused and exasperated, “Stan said that it doesn’t work like that. If my past changes then I’ll probably just create a different timeline from this one—not change this one.”

Richie and Eddie shared a look at the random statement, and both of them thought ‘well at least he doesn’t look like he’s about to cry anymore’.

“Look,” Eddie tried again, moving his hands away from the fanny pack, “My point is, you don’t have asthma. Or anything serious, really. It’s all fake, invented by our mom to keep us in a straight line.”

“Too bad it backfired on her fatass, right Eds?” Richie snickered.

“Beep fucking beep, Richie!” Eddie hissed, giving him a look and scared that his younger self would be curious about his statement.

But mini-Eddie was always more attentive about his health, “I don’t have asthma? But… I’ve been taking this inhaler for years! Surely I would’ve gotten side-effects from taking the wrong medication!”

Eddie looked sad now, feeling sorry for himself from depending on his mother’s words and believing in her lies, “It’s water with a taste of medicine. Nothing else, it’s all in your head.”

Mini-Eddie gave him a look of complete horror and anguish, and it was like suddenly everything made sense. It was like he’d always knew the truth but sheltered himself from it to make his mommy happy.

It was bullshit. His life was…

Perhaps dropping the bomb on his younger self hadn’t been a logical choice, especially when it happened so quickly. But least Richie recognized the expression of an Eddie about to lose his conscious from being too overwhelmed—and he managed to catch the smaller boy before he could hit the carpet.

“Jesus Christ, Eds…” Richie sighed, giving his husband a concerned but stern look, “I warned you. This could be bad.”

“Or… good,” Eddie said as he gave his unconscious self a watery smile, “Fuck. Maybe… maybe I shouldn’t have done that,” panic crept onto him as Richie lied mini-Eddie on their bed, “Maybe we shouldn’t have even told him who we were! I mean, how is he gonna handle the fact and you and I…” he looked up at Richie, who was standing in front of him, his big hands gently pressed against his shoulders to keep him still.

And Richie, he gave him a look of slow realization, “Shit. I forgot about the repressed sexuality thing—that’s gonna be a shit storm,” he looked at his husband in alarm, “Eddie, baby, we can’t tell him about us—at least not yet. He’ll freak out, won’t he? Won’t… you?” Richie ended that on a confused tone, “You know yourself better than I do, what do you think?” he gave him a teasing smirk that meant no harm.

Eddie couldn’t help to smile adoringly at the idiot, “You asshole. Of course, I’ll freak out. I’m thirteen. I watched and heard Bowers go after kids that he thought were gay—”

“Like me.”

Eddie nodded but gave him a daring look if he thought about interrupting again, “Yes, Rich, like you. What I’m trying to say is… that maybe if we show that the world is now more openly accepting about LGBTQ people maybe he’ll realize it sooner. And he won’t be like me, a fucking idiot that only discovered my true self at the age of forty.”

Richie smiled warmly and rested his hands on Eddie’s lower back now, bringing him closer, “You’re not a fucking idiot, Eds, we were under the influence of that fucker’s induced ignorance. Even I, who pathetically had to tell every show that I had a fake girlfriend to avoid rumors, don’t feel that bad about not realizing it sooner. It makes sense, in a fucked up way, that the spell could only be broken from love at first sight—”

Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes as a smile effortlessly formed.

“Don’t laugh! I waited for twenty-seven years for my prince charming and you laugh?? It’s fucking tragic,”

“Like Romeo and Juliet?” Eddie asked, humoring his husband.

Richie beamed at him, “Hell yeah babe, but without the dying part. Fuck that.”

Eddie chuckled, but when he looked at his mini-self, resting on his side of the bed (he wondered if Richie did that on purpose or just did it subconsciously) with a peaceful expression as if a chaotic meeting hadn’t just happened.

“Rich? We have to tell the others. They’ll be here in two days, what are we gonna do?” Eddie felt Richie’s hand slightly shake as his husband slowly slithered them inside his shirt. There was one thing that Richie still carried from childhood, he was always finding ways of casually touching his skin. Either if it was to initialize sex or just to hold him while they watched television after a rough day of work—Richie always felt better when his skin was touching Eddie’s.

“Uh… yeah,” Richie pulled him closer, and Eddie quickly wrapped his arms around the taller man’s torso as they embraced, “Well, we could help mini-Eds adjust first,” he suggested while resting his chin on his husband’s head, “I mean, we can’t just call them right now and expect them not pack their shit and get here as fast as they can.”

Eddie was attracted—for reasons he couldn’t and refused to fathom—to Richie’s foul mouth and quips, but when his husband managed to sound mature and reasonable, Eddie would practically give the man heart eyes and hope that Richie would get the message.

Not right now, of course, not with his fucking younger self in the room.

So he took a deep breath, and talked, “Your point, honey?”

Richie let out a content sound from the back of his throat just from hearing Eddie genuinely use a pet name with a sweet tone, “My point is… they promise their jobs at least one more day. And think about Leeds and Avi, they’re in their terrible twos and we couldn’t let them go through be suddenly on a plane without any form of calm preparation, remember what Stan said?”

Aviva is a little afraid of closed spaces, she weeps at the sight of the airport.

Eddie hummed, understand now, “Okay. Yeah, you’re right—fuck. Let’s go with your plan then.”

“Great!” Richie pushed Eddie backward only enough to look at his face, “How difficult can be to show a kid that came from the eighties how much the world has changed?”

Eddie paled, “Very, especially when that kid is me.”

“Whoa, Eds, don’t downgrade yourself like that…” Richie mumbled as he frowned.

“It’s not that—” his eyes kept widening, “Richie, what if paparazzi sees us with a kid out of nowhere? What are we gonna do?!”

Richie closed his eyes and briefly waited for his brain to come up with something.

It didn’t happen.

“Well, fuck.”